A Change in Fate
by American-Gentlemen96
Summary: Hugar Ironshark, once a successful ship captain for the Ironborn, leads his sellsail company all over the Seven Kingdoms and the Free Cities trying to scratch out a living guarding trade ships and putting down bandits. But a chance meeting with Prince Rhaegar Targaryen before Robert's Rebellion might bring on one of the most unlikely friendships in all of Westeros.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: A Meeting of Fire and Water

"Talking"

" **Thinking"**

 _Weapon/Ship names_

Disclaimer: The Song of Ice and Fire series belongs to George RR Martian.

* * *

(The Narrow Sea, off the coast of Penthos)

Hugar Ironshark wasn't a person easy to anger. He always considered himself a man with an even temperament. Always thinking out a plan then acting on his impulses. Sure, there was a few instances where Hugars raw emotions got the better of him from time to time. But overall all Hugar would say that he had a great grip on the impulses that drove men to early graves.

But all that control was thrown out the window of how much he wanted to bash in a skull right now.

It all started with that fat bastard merchant named Lazeo of Myr and his damn job. The job was simple; help guard his cargo ships all the way to the Summer Isles and back. Nothing that complicated for a decent sea captain. Yet the constant harassment by unending pirate groups and privateers pushed his crewmen to their limits. And what thanks did he and his crew get for all those weeks of fighting? Lazeo, the bastard he was, only giving them enough silver to feed the entire sellsail company for two weeks. Hugar swore he would've strangled Lazeo's pudgy neck and watch his face go blue if the city watch wasn't watching his everyone move.

So now here he was with only three out of his original five long ships and sailing back to the great trade city of Braavos with almost nothing to show for it. What a damn waste of time.

Hugar took a deep breath of the sweet aroma of the open sea. It was soothing to the large stocky man to be sailing the waters like his forefathers before him. The salty sea wind brushed against his short, yet thick, black hair and beard. The bearskin coat, a trophy from a hunt long ago, was over his worn steel chest plate and arm guards while a long-sleeve brown tunic was underneath the armor. Baggy gray pants were tucked into dull, and frankly worn-out, brown leather boots that reached up to the middle of Hugar's shins.

Hugar exhaled and looked down from the poop deck's wood railing of the _Thralls Sorrow_ , his personal long ship, down to his crew. All his men were going about their normal duties like any other day while at sea. Men managing the sails to catch the winds and stay on course, scrubbing and pushing any excess sea water that landed on the hard wood deck, even a few keeping communication with their two brother ships, _Foresight_ and _Bloody Longbow_ , in the distance. Hugar swelled with pride looking at his crew. Each one of them bled for his family, followed him despite his exile and into lands only heard in stories, and continue to follow his command as the leader of their sellsail company.

The sound of footsteps coming from behind was picked up by Hugar. He turns his head around to see who it is.

Behind him, ascending the stairs of the lower deck, was a womanly figure wearing the same armor like him and the rest of the crew. Her dirty dark blonde hair flowing down like a river of gold and dirt, going no farther than the nape of her neck. Her pale face had a strong jawline and a board nose, but it was red scarred skin on the left side of her face that extended out from her full lips and up her cheek that drew the most attention. A permeant, unnerving, smile like a rat who has remained unnoticed by hungry cats. The woman saluted Hugar with head held high and green eyes like unflinching stone.

Her name was Shana 'Rat Face' Pyke. Hugar Ironshark's first mate and second-in-command in the Ironshark sellsail company.

"What is it Shana?" Hugar asks

Shana relaxes.

"Just finished sorting through all of our gains this past job."

Hugar let out a disappointed sigh.

"How bad is it?"

"Bad," Shana said in a deadpan voice. "The weapons and other equipment we've salvage from the pirate's ships covered barely half the cost of what we lost. The silver helps, but not by much."

Hugar groans as he pinches the bridge of his nose. This was just perfect. So much hard fighting and time at sea that boiled down to barely enough.

Shana moves from near the stairs position and leans against the wooden railing to the right of Hugar.

"Could be worse," Shana says, "We could be hunting bandits like Colton. Probably would've torn my hair out by now listening to him rant about not being back on his ship."

Hugar couldn't help but let out a chuckle at the old sea dog's misfortune. Colton the Sea-Legged was probably the only man Hugar felt more qualified to lead ships then himself. The man was nearly three times his age, Hugar being in his late twenties, yet still sharp enough to command hundreds of men at sea at once. It was like witnessing a great artist uses their brush to paint a masterpiece. Though it is difficult to be around Colton whenever on land and nowhere near a large body of water. The old man always got anxious and even panicky if away from the shore for too long. Some say it was because Colton was born on a ship during a great storm, a sign from the Drowned God that foretold of him becoming a great sea captain. Hugar just believed the old man was talented, and lucky, enough to survive the numerous conflicts over the decades.

"Guess you're right." Hugar said, "I can hear him now, 'oh why can't I go back to the ship and let you handle the killing? I'll keep watch from the coast and make sure they don't steal our ships.'

Hugar and Shana both let out a hearty laugh at the impression of Colton.

"Who knows," Shana spoke through her laughs. "he might stumble upon an ancient treasure trove that will solve all of our problems?"

"Knowing Colton he'll probably have his men carry the treasure while he runs back to his ship like his life depended on- "

Hugar's voice was cut off by the sound of ringing bells. Hugar and Shana look at each other curious to what was happening. They turn around to see the crew running towards the port side of the ship and pointing out at the sea.

Hugar looks down at his sailors.

"What the drowned god's hall is going on here?!"

All the crew that was looking out at the sea immediately turn around to see their captain and first mate standing over them. One of them crewmen steps forward.

"Two ships spotted off in the distant captain."

"Pirates, Slavers, Merchant?" Hugar responded

"No idea captain. But it does look like their fighting."

Hugar and Shana move and walk down the stairs from the top of the poop deck to the main deck.

"Someone get me a spyglass and inform the other ships."

A few of the crewmen hurried to do what their captain had ordered them too while the rest remain and observe the ships in the distance. The crew parted ways as Hugar and Shana made their way through the small crowd of and to the edge of the ship. Hugar looks out into the distance and saw the two ships that were mentioned. Though to him it just looked like two brown specks in the middle of a vast blue backdrop.

"Here's the spyglass captain."

Hugar reached out his arm and grabs the naval instrument from the crewman. Hugar extends the spyglass to its full length and brought it right up against his eye. Now with the spyglass in hand Hugar got a better view of the two ships in the distance.

The crew was right about the two ships, a large carrack and a basic cog, being in battle. Both were pressed up right next to each other with the men of the carrack jumping onto the cog with their weapons raised. Standard boarding party tactics, basic and messy but it gets the job done. Hugar moves the spyglass to see if there were any identifiable marks on the sails. He would've preferred to know if who they sailed for just in case if it was just some random pirates attacking an unguarded merchant ship or a minor skirmish between two vessels of the Free Cities.

On the carrack's main sail the picture of a bloody goat's head mounted on a pike. The calling card of the Iron Chest Marauders. A small-time pirate gang that based themselves out of the Vale region of Westeros. Hugar once heard a rumor that these folks were originally one of Vale's mountain clan found some ships, abducted a few sailors and them to teach them to work the things, and set sail. Probably got sick of herding goats and enjoy the freedom of the open sea. Hugar considered them little better than cockroaches, small and annoying while being a pain to kill.

Hugar moved the spyglass away from the carrack and onto the cogs sails. The background of the sail was pitch black as a red three-headed dragon-

"That's a Targaryen ship!"

Hugar shouted as he lowered the spyglass from his face. The crew looks at him with stunned expressions before looking back at the two ships. Shana steps forward and grabs the spyglass from Hugar's hand.

"Pigshit."

Shana brought the spyglass up to her eye.

"Look at it yourself," Hugar responded

House Targaryen, maybe one of the most powerful and well-known families in all the known world. A dynasty that ruled all of Westeros for almost three hundred years from their great Iron Throne in Kings Landing. Once famed dragon riders whose blood is probably worth more than gold to some folks. If threaten by anyone they could call upon thousands on thousands of warriors to defend them if needed. Said protection that extends to those who flew their banners.

It was all crap to Hugar. Strip away all the glamor, poise, and power and they were still just men and women. And men all go down the same if you stab them enough.

"Well I'll be damn, that is a Targaryen ship." Shana lowers the spyglass from her face and looks at Hugar. "Figure out what we're going to do about it, captain?"

Hugar looks oddly at Shana.

"And should we do anything Shana?"

"Iron Chest heads fetch a good boutny in the Vale. Heard one head can go for thirty silver. And I bet that carrack has many heads waiting for us." Shana continues, "Not only that but I'm sure that Targaryen ship will be real grateful we saved them. They'll be in our debt, and that can be pretty valuable…"

"…valuable enough to turned this disastrous venture profitable?" Hugar asks.

"We won't know that till we save their asses captain."

"Rat Face," Hugar said, "I like the way you think."

Shana gave Hugar a smug smile.

"Well one of us has to be the smart one in this partnership."

Hugar turns around back to his crew.

"Alright men listen and listen well! Those ships over there are not only your meal ticket but possibly the only damn thing of worth this sorry excuse of a venture. Not only do we get to split some pirate skulls, we get to be damn heroes and save that cog over there. But unlike those heroes in the bard's tales we collect on our fame. So, who's going to pay the iron price with me? Or do I have to do it all by myself and win all the glory?"

All the crew of _Thralls Sorrow_ roared in excitement at their captain's speech.

"Good, now all of you to your stations. We're boarding the cog and saving whoever is left on that ship. And someone tell _Foresight_ and _Bloody Longbow_ were going in. I want _Foresight_ attacking the carrack and _Bloody Longbow_ making sure no pirate escapes." The crew scatters to their assigned posts as Hugar looks back at Shana. "Go get my poleaxe and helm. I want to be the first man to board that ship."

Shana nods.

"Sure thing captain."

Shana jogs back to the stairs leading to the lower decks. Hugar turns towards the sea and goes back to observing the battling ships. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, then exhaling a moment later.

Hugar opened his eyes, full of fire.

"May their gods show them mercy. For they will find none with me."

* * *

(Aboard the Targaryen ship)

Rhaegar Targaryen slashes at the pirate in front of him, leaving a long bloody gash across the man's chest. He turns his head to see another pirate coming at him from his right side with a rusted axe raised in the air. Rhaegar prepares himself to take the incoming attack, but the brigand is cut down before him by a man in white and silver colored armor and helm with his twin longswords cutting at the pirates unprotected side. Sir Arthur Dayne, Rhaegar's personal guard and closest friend, looks at Rhaegar.

"Are you alright my lord?"

Arthur said through his heavy breathing.

"Well enough given our-" Rhaegar was cut short as another one of these numerous pirates came at him with the intent to land a killing blow with his cutlass. Rhaegar, however, knocks the cutlass aside, stumbling the pirate in the process. Rhaegar thrusts his sword straight through the chest. The pirate slumps forward on the blade, Rhaegar pulls his sword out of the corpse and pushes the body aside. Rhaegar looks back at Arthur. "Current situation."

"Well don't worry my lord. They run out of numbers eventually."

"Yes, but let us hope we are still standing when they do."

And said hope of victory was fleeting by the moment the longer they stood. The only piece of solace they had was they were in the crew quarters of the ship, near the bottom of the ship and with only a single staircase leading back to the upper decks. Only one way in for those pirates to funnel in, but also the only way for Rhaegar, Arthur, and the remaining crew of the ship to leave. And that wasn't even mentioning how dimly lit and claustrophobic the quarters were. Rhaegar swore he only needed to spit three feet to hit either one of the crew or one of the pirates.

How in all the seven gods did this happen?

It started out as a simple diplomatic mission to Penthos. King Aerys Targaryen, Rhaegar's father, believed it was time for his son to start pulling his weight in matters of the crown. The mission was simple, go to the free city of Penthos and meet with the crown's spymaster's friend and magister of Penthos, Illyrio Mopatis. The goal was also simple, work with Illyrio to secure further trade and any possible allies for the Seven Kingdoms across the narrow sea. Two weeks of debating, heated arguments, and even a fist fight between two magisters, finally gave way to Rhaegar and Illyrio succeeding in their mission. Seeing no further need to be in Penthos, Rhaegar said farewell to Illyrio and departed back to the capital city of the Seven Kingdoms, Kings Landing.

And never once in all that time did Rhaegar believe a pirate attack would happen or that it might be the death of him. Rhaegar swore if he were to make it out alive by some miracle he would personally order the entire royal fleet and hire any interested privateers to remove all pirate groups plundering the narrow sea.

But that will come in time, Rhaegar's priority is to survive this attack.

Rhaegar and Arthur charge forward through the bodies of fellow crewmen and pirates. Both men cutting down any pirates they came across or got in their way. Arthur took the lead as he uses his longswords to cleave through multiple opponents at once and to draw the pirates attention away from the prince. Rhaegar reserved himself behind Arthur, waiting for the opportunity to strike any unsuspecting pirate who was too focused on his friend. And said tactic was surprising working better than they thought.

The pirates in the crew quarters began to dwindle down in numbers. As more pirates fell to Rhaegar and Arthur's weapons, the remaining crew members of the ship were freed up to save more of their comrades. Most of the crew joined the prince and his guard in the push to the stairs. Though a few of the crewmen immediately ran for the stairs in a vain hope to clear the way on the upper decks. The fighting proceeded as the remaining pirates on the deck dying to the crew's blades.

It was then when the last pirate on the deck dies upon Arthur's own sword and finally making the crew section of the ship safe for now. Yet Arthur didn't stop to take a breath, but instead he looked at the remaining sailors and points at the steps with one of his swords.

"Go! Save your ship and prince!"

Without a word, all the sailors rush past Arthur and Rhaegar and up the stairs as quickly as they could. Arthur looked at Rhaegar and saw bloodstains upon his dark red silk shirt and long silver colored hair. Arthur looks into Rhaegar's rich purple eyes with concern.

"Are you all right my lord?"

Rhaegar waves off Arthur's question.

"I'm fine Arthur. This isn't my blood." Rhaegar sees the last of the crew go up the stairs. He walks past Arthur, "Come on, we still have many more of these brigands to kill-"

"AHHH!"

Rhaegar's voice was drowned out by the sound of hundreds of voices letting out a great battle cry. Like thunder, the yelling was tremendous and full of weight only for it only to be replaced by silence moments later. Arthur and Rhaegar's stumble as the ship was given a harsh shake. The two men regain their footing and looked at each other.

They needed to get to the upper deck, and fast.

The two men rush themselves up the stairs with their swords at the ready. The deck above the crew quarters were just as bad if not worse. The crew was still fighting but with even more bloody corpses lying on the wood floor or sprawled out on crates. But as Rhaegar made his way across the room he could hear the vague noise of feet running across the deck above him. Who were these people that let out such a massive roar? It could have been more pirates that came to help with the boarding of this ship. Rhaegar doubted it was any parties friendly to the crown. Maybe if he was to give himself up the pirates would be willing to spare the crew-

Rhaegar's thoughts were interrupted as he felt a blunt object smash against the side of his head. A numbness he had never felt before in his life over took his body. He collapses to the floor like a heavy sack of pumpkins. All sound around Rhaegar, the clashing of steel and cries of agony, drowned out as he laid sprawled out on the floor. Standing over him was a grimy pirate wearing nothing but torn pair of brown trouser that didn't go past his knees and holding a wooden club in his hand. Rhaegar could see out the corner of his eye Arthur yelling at him before being swarmed by three other pirates.

So this was how he was going to die? Rhaegar always assumed he was going to die many years from now in his sleep after decades of hard work in making Westeros prosper and undoing the mistakes of his father madness. That, or just getting a well-placed dagger in the back with the unending, backstabbing, petty game of pollical power and influence the noble houses of Westeros so loved to do. But now even a hidden blade would've been preferable to getting his skull bashed in by some unknown dirty pirate. Rhaegar closed his eyes and waited for the Strangers embrace to take him…

But it never came.

Rhaegar opens his eyes to see not the gleeful blood-thirsty pirate ready to bash in his head. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of said pirate trying to pull out a crossbow bolt that had lodged itself in his neck. The pirate falls backwards dead with torrents of blood coming down his neck. Rhaegar lifted himself to a seating position to find the source of the bolt. And across the room, he found his answer.

From the stair came dozens upon dozens of men all wearing the same dull gray baggy pants and tunics with only steel cuirasses' and helms as the only armor they wore. Many of them carried swords and hand axes though Rhaegar did see a few wielding crossbows. Rhaegar witnesses these men slaughter their way through the pirates like mad hounds ripping apart a defenseless deer. Skulls being split open, longswords stabbed into soft flesh, even the few crossbows were being used as simple bludgeons when not firing their bolts.

Who in the Seven were these wild men?

"R***gar*…*aeg**…*h**ga*…"

Rhaegar starts hearing a muffled voice fading in and out. If only he could make out who was talking-

"Rhaegar!"

And with that shout of his name, all the sound and awareness returned to Rheagar. Rhaegar turns his head to see Arthur picking him up by his left arm. A splitting headache immediately slams Rhaegar as the pain was so bad that it causes his knees to buckle and let out a large groan. Arthur looks over at his friend ready to fall forward but places his arm up against Rhaegar's chest to keep the prince from falling.

"My lord are you alright?" Arthur asks

"No…not really."

Yet before either Arthur or Rhaegar could continue their conversation, one of the men in the gray came up to them. Arthur points his sword at the man causing him to stop. The man, Arthur, and Rhaegar stare at each other for a moment.

"I take it this is someone important Kings Guard?"

"Yes, he is," Arthur replied to the man. "This is prince Rheagar Targaryen, prince of the Seven Kingdoms, heir of the First Men and Andals. And you will speak to him with the respect he deserves."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll start kissing his arse after we finished saving your hides." The man motions towards the stairs. "Come on, the captain wants to meet you."

Arthur said, "Are you asking, or is that an order?"

"Don't start Arthur." Rhaegar spoke, "These men saved us. I think we can indulge them in meeting their leader who saved us."

The man turns away from the duo and starts walking to the stairs. Arthur and Rhaegar look at each other for a few seconds before following the man. The three walk past the carnage around them as the rest of the man's crewmates slaughter the rest of the pirates or helping the Targaryen ship crew. Though the voices of relief by crewmembers brought some peace to Rhaegar, the cries of the pirates begging for mercy and shouting out unknown names still unnerve the prince. Eventually, the three men made it to the stairs and begun walking up the steps. Minutes later the three men emerge from the stairs and saw the what was going on the main deck.

The deck of the ship was a damn mess, and that was putting it lightly. Bodies of pirates, Targaryen sailors, and a few men wearing the same clothing to their guide were strung out across the floor. Pools of blood and entrails were everywhere along with the foul stench of death hanging in the air. Rheagar looks over at the ships near on either side of the cog. To the port side was the pirate carrack the crew had come and warned his about was also crawling with these grey-clothed men killing any pirates. To the starboard was what looked like a longship Rheagar had seen in history books or sketches. On the sails was a depiction of a dark blue shark, if he correctly recalled from fishermen stories, with dark red teeth and eyes. Not a symbol Rheagar recognized from a noble house of Westeros, the Free Cities, or even any merchant guilds. But the long ship was enough of a clue to Rhaegar.

These men that have saved him, Arthur, and the crew were Ironborn. The famed raiders, rapists, and seafarers that have plagued the Seven Kingdoms ever since the Age of Heroes. But why they were here being what intrigued Rheagar the most. The Ironborn rarely left their archipelago on the sunset sea for only one of two reasons; trade for food in the direst of circumstances or to raid the other kingdoms. In truth, and even though one of the Seven Kingdoms, the Ironborn were as foreign to the average smallfolk as the people of the Qarth, a city located near the eastern most edge of the known world.

"Well come on the captain is almost done with his fight."

Maybe it didn't matter right now.

The three men proceed away from the stairs and towards a suspiciously large group of Ironborn forming a circle in the middle of the main deck and cheering. Arthur and Rhaegar look at each other confusing as their guide kept walking through the crowd. The two men follow suit as the Ironborn move out of their way as well. The three finally made their way through the small mass of people and the source of the crowd's attention.

A makeshift arena was formed out of the crowd as they made a large circle of wide girth. Inside this makeshift arena were four men, three of them circling the fourth, with their weapons at the ready. The three men surrounding the fourth man were all pirates, though to Rhaegar notices multiple purple bruises all over their bodies. Unfortunate souls that weren't lucky enough to die when these Ironborn boarded. The man in the certain was no doubt the captain if Rhaegar was given a guess. The man stood nearly a head taller than the pirates with his brown fur coat adding to size. Rhaegar couldn't tell the man's facial features with the helm, like the rest of the crew but with its faceplate forged to look like a row of sharp teeth, over his head. A poleaxe was in the man's arms as he kept observe the pirates circling him.

Rhaegar's eyes widen, "Don't tell me he's going to take them all on at once?"

One of the pirate's charges at the captain with his sword in the air and yelling at the top of their lungs.

"Of course." Their guide spoke

The captain didn't give the pirate the chance as he steps to the side and letting said pirate pass by him. The captain turns around and trusts the sharp head knob of the pole-axe deep into the pirate's back. The pirate fell face first into the deck and dropping his blade. Yet this action only encouraged the other two pirates to charge forward.

The captain saw the two other pirates charging at him and ready his weapon. The captain steps towards the pirate closer to him and knocks the cutlass out of the brigand's hand with his poleaxe. The pirate didn't even have the time to react as the captain slammed the end of the pole into the guy's nose. The sound of cartilage cracking and the pirate screaming in pain sent the crowd into a joyous frenzy. But The captain had to deal with the other pirate coming up behind him.

The captain pivots his body and swings his weapon low towards the charging pirate. The axe blade embeds itself deep into the pirate's groin. The pirate drops his sword and screams in a hellish voice as he grips the axe head to pull the blade out. The captain gives a small chuckle before he slides the axe blade out with blood and traces of rotten yellow piss gush out the massive wound. The pirate collapses to the floor, still screaming, holding his groin in a futile attempt to stop the wound from bleeding. The captain turns his attention back to the pirate with the broken nose.

The captain swung his axe again, this time high, and smashes the blunt end of the axe head on top of the pirate's skull. A large indent was now formed out of the top of the pirate's skull with jagged pieces of bone ripping out of the flesh. The pirate's eyes were bloodshot and rolled back into his head. His posture was slouched at best with his body swaying slowly trying to stay upright. An occasional groan came out of pirate's mouth, a likely attempt to say something. The captain, having enough of the sight, merely poked the brain damaged pirate with his weapon and sending the pirate to fall backwards and to never get back up again.

The captain returns his focus back to the first pirate that charged at him. Looking over, the captain saw that said pirate was still on the ground, but crawling towards his weapon with the right arm extended out. The captain was going to have none of that. The captain surges forward with his weapon raised till he was right over the pirate. The captain slams down his axe onto the pirate's right arm and severing the hand. The pirate rolls onto his back and grips his new bloody stump of a limb and yells out in pain.

The captain brought his axe up to the pirates quivering face. The axe blade mere inches away from the pirate's chin.

"Any last words pirate?" the captain asks. The pirate could do nothing but look up at him with unbridling fear. "Nothing? Well alright then." The captain looks at his crew and lifts his axe to rest on his shoulder. "Take this man and put him with the rest. We still need some of them alive for the bounty. And be sure seal up that wound, there's wood around, make a torch if needed."

And at the captain's orders, a few of his crew came forward and start dragging the wounded pirate away despite the said pirates pleads for mercy.

" **That's one way to make a first impression."** Rhaegar thought to himself.

Rhaegar watched at the Ironborn captain switches his focus once towards himself. The captain walks towards Rhaegar and grips his helmet with his free hand. The captain removes the helmet to finally reveal his face. To Rhaegar the captain's face was nothing that stands out, short thick black hair and beard, broad nose, and hard gray eyes. Not an uncommon appearance for a person of Westerosi decent.

"Hugar Ironshark, captain of the ship _Thralls Sorrow_ and her crew, leader of Ironshark sellsail company, and exile of the Iron Islands." Hugar said to Rhaegar, "And you are?"

Rhaegar tries his best to stand up straight despite being held by Arthur.

"Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, heir to the Iron Throne, and future ruler of the Andels and First Men." Rhaegar motions at Arthur. "This is Arthur Dayne of the Kings Guard, my personal guardsman. And we are both grateful for your timely rescue."

"You should be. The Iron Chest Marauders aren't known for their civility. For neither the living or the dead."

"And I could've been one of this day." Rhaegar spoke, "I believe a reward is in order for your help. Though I am afraid that this ship has little to offer. But if you were to accompany us to Kings Landing I'll be sure to compensate you with what I can muster."

Hugar nods, "Fair enough. Do you have the crew to man your ship?"

"Most likely no."

"I'll have some of my crew from my ships help."

"My thanks, sir."

"Hey, captain look what I got here!"

Everyone turn around to find the source of the female voice. Eventually, everyone's gaze fell to the pirate ship where a lone woman was holding a beaten and battered pirate by his shaggy long brown hair.

Hugar speaks, "Who in the drowned hall is that Rat Face?"

"It's Udor the Iron Chest himself." The woman known as Smiles shouted back at Hugar. "How much do you think the Vale will pay for the Marauder's founder?"

"Enough to build a few new longship! Put him with the others, chop off his feet if he tries to make a run for it."

"Sure thing captain!"

Rhaegar saw the woman known called Rat Face push the pirate leader Udor to who knows where. The two men, Hugar and Rhaegar, return their attention back to each other.

"Not if we're done here we better get going to Kings Landing."

Hugar turns his back to Rhaegar and Arthur as both his crew disperses. Arthur leans his head closer to Rheagar, his mouth up against the prince's ear.

"Rheagar you can't be serious about trusting these people." Arthur whispered, "These are Ironborn, their no better than the pirates who just boarded us. And you want to bring them to the Kings Landing?"

Rheagar motions for them both to start to start walking.

"You don't think I know that." Rhaegar's whispered his reply, "What choice do we have? We're outmanned and far from any help. The best we can do right now is get them to the capital and give them their reward. No need to raise their ire." Rhaegar's gaze turns towards Hugar back. "Besides, he might be of some use to me…"

* * *

(Kings Landing, Westeros)

Hugar had seen many sights while being exiled. The Free Cities, The Summer Isles, much of the coasts of Westeros, Slavers Bay, heck he had even spend a brief period in the godforsaken Basilisk Isles. But Kings Landing, the birthplace of modern Westeros, always held the most weight for Hugar. It was where Aegon the Conqueror, first great king of Westeros, and his dragons took their first steps in taming the Seven Kingdoms. Bringing his forbearers fledgling empire and golden age to a quick and violent end. The source of so many rivalries that spun out of control and engulf the continent in war. A rotten place where from the smallfolk all the way up to the king wore a mask to hide their true intentions.

Also, the smell of shit and misery that just hung in the air. Hugar hated the smell of shit.

"Alright captain, any closer and the gold cloaks are going to start firing arrows at us."

Hugar lets out a sigh as he turns to face Shana.

"Alright, Shana keeps the ships steady and in place while I go with the prince." Hugar walks pass Shana and towards the lifeboat ready to take him with a few of his crew to the docks. "If I die you're in charge of the company."

"Whatever you say, captain."

Hugar steps into the lifeboat and takes his seat at the front end of the boat. He watches as the dozen crewmen sharing the small boat ready their oars for the short sail to the docks. Their faces stoic for whatever was to come when they docked. No telling what these mainlanders have planned when they did.

"You men ready?"

"Aye, captain!"

"Good," Hugar turns his head toward the crewman manning the ropes to lower the lifeboat. "Lower the boat!" At the order, the boat descends till it hits the murky, nearly black, water.

Hugar's crewmen began their rowing, pushing their small vessel through the water at a decent speed so to not attract the ire of the gold cloaks. Hugar notices the just how empty the bay was with many of the ships already docked. Hugar snickers, guess the fear of Ironborn sails was still alive amongst the mainlanders. If even a shred.

Hugar turns his head to the right to see prince Rheagar, his guard Arthur, and a few of their sailors rowing their own boat through the bay with the infamous Targaryen banner held high. Mostly likely to tell the gold cloaks were not to fire their arrows. Hugar eased himself in his seat and enjoyed the calming motion of the waves...

No, this wasn't a battle or raid. He had nothing to worry about. All Hugar had to do was dock with the prince, be congratulated for his timely rescue, receive his reward, and go return to their base. If no one did anything rash, then they will all be seeing the sun set. Though Hugar would love to see the reaction of the Iron Islands that one of their exiles attacked Kings Landing. Either they would be shamed that only an exile had the stones to try and attack the capital, or laugh at his failed attempt to win glory due to a stupid decision.

"Captain were about to dock."

One of Hugar's crewman said, bring the exile out of his thoughts.

" **Huh, must've been really out of it."** Hugar leans forward in his seat. "Alright men, remember, we're here to get our reward and get out. No pointless bloodshed that will get us all killed. Is that understood?"

"Yes, captain!"

A dozen sailors said in unison.

"Good"

The two small boats of Hugar and Rhaegar rowed up to one of the small docking areas in the bay meant for smaller seafaring vessels. The boats were tied to the posts of the stone boardwalk by thick rope as an anchor. After securing their boats, the people of both ships start to climb onto the boardwalk. Yet as Hugar made his way onto the stone walkway, Rhaegar was doing the same. And when both men were on solid ground, they were right across from one another. Hugar and Rhaegar stare at each other with no emotion on ethers face.

As the two men look at one another, the men under their command stop in their tracks. An eerie silence fell over the boardwalk with only the seagulls and moving waves of the bay making any sound. Some of the men, especially Arthur, were slowly reaching towards their weapons and palming their hilts. After what felt like an eternity of silence, the two men finally spoke.

"After you prince," Hugar said

"Thank you, Captain," Rhaegar replied

And with those two sentences said, everyone one the boardwalk let out a heavy sigh of relief. Though the tension pass as everyone walks down the stone boardwalk, Hugar notices a large group of people at the end of the dock. A heavily armed group of people.

The most noticeable feature of the group was the number of gold cloaks all but two were wearing. The Gold Cloaks were the last line of defense for Kings Landing, ready to give their lives to defend all who live in the city. To Hugar, they were little more than a glorified town's watch. Then only difference was that the Gold Cloaks had the coin to buy the better training and equipment. Though their numbers were great enough to do serious damage for his crew. Yet it wasn't the Gold Cloaks that made Hugar curious, it was the two men of different dress who stood in front of them.

The man on the right wore the same Kingsguard armor as Arthur apart from certain places, such as the arms and chest area, were more heavily armored. Another noticeable feature to Hugar was just how _old_ the man was. Long white hair that went past his shoulder with a bald spot on the top of his head, wrinkles were shown on his face and hard unwavering blue eyes. But what peaked Hugar's interest the most, and somewhat caution, was how this elder man carried himself. His head was held up high and chest out as if nothing could do harm to him. The confidence oozing out this man was something Hugar seen plenty of times, but when looking at this man he didn't want to tempt luck. A true warrior Hugar rarely came across in his travels.

Hugar's gaze went over to the other man, and you couldn't find a perfect opposite.

The fair-skinned man on the left was plump enough to where even his fine purple and yellow silk robe couldn't hide his fat. It was like this man had never once lifted a sword or did any physical activity in his life. To further contrast the warrior next to him, this pudgy man had not a single hair on his head or face, including eyebrows. But it wasn't just looks that separated this man from the warrior, it was something in how he held himself as well. It was like if Hugar would look away from the man, even for a moment, he would be gone as if he was never there at all. Hugar made a note that he will need to keep an eye on that man.

But both men, no matter how different, still salute as Rhaegar stood before them. The warrior with his fist over his heart and the plump man giving a slight bow.

"Welcome back my Prince." The plump man said with a soothing calm voice. "I hope the journey wasn't too harrowing. The internal politics of the Free Cities aren't for the faint of heart."

"The debating wasn't the difficult part. Not only was I successful, but I rather found the experience enlightening." Rhaegar replied, "The difficult part was the journey back home."

"I take it has to deal with these Ironborn my lord?" The warrior asked in his gruff and somewhat hoarse voice.

"To speak plainly, yes." Rhaegar moves to the side of the two men and motions for Hugar to come forward. "This is Hugar Ironshark, captain of _Thralls Sorrow_ and her crew, leader of the Ironshark sellsail company, and exile of the Iron Islands."

Hugar places his fist over his heart.

"Well meet."

The two men simply look at him, then to each other, then back at Hugar again. Never once saying a single word.

"And I believe some proper introductions are in order." Rhaegar bringing the attention back to himself. Rhaegar presents the elder warrior to Hugar. "This is Ser Barristen Selmy, Lord Commander of the King Guard. His duty is to make sure-"

Hugar interrupts, "I know of the Kings Guard prince. No need to explain it to me."

Barristen steps forward.

"Watch your tongue Ironborn. You are talking to the prince of The Seven Kingdoms."

Rhaegar steps in between the two men.

"It is alright Ser Barristen, I'm sure he means no offense."

"Aye," Hugar adds, "If I mean to offend, my axe would be in your skull."

"I like to see you try pup." Barristen retorted

Hugar lets out a little chuckle, "I like you."

"Moving on." Rhaegar then motions towards the plump man. "This is Varys the Spider, the royal spymaster and personal advisor to the crown."

Varys gives Hugar a slight bow as he did Rhaegar.

"Pleasure Captain Ironshark, I can't say I have heard much of you. A few rumors here and there about longships protecting trade vessels in Essos." Varys said, "Nothing of interest that would affect the crown until now."

"Circumstances can change."

"Very true." Varys added, "Though I am much more curious about this 'exile' title of yours."

Hugar shrugs, "Go ask House Harlaw then for stories. I'm here for business."

"Shame…" Varys muttered

"Which is why I brought them here." Rhaegar addresses everyone. "On the sail back to Kings Landing, my vessel was besieged by a savage pirate crew. The crew of our ship was nearly lost and myself almost having my head smashed into paste." Rhaegar points at Hugar. "But this man and his sailors came to us in our hour of greatest need. I believe this man and all those under his banner deserve a reward. Don't you agree?"

Hugar watches as Varys and Barristen contemplate their prince's words. Hugar swore if there wasn't a reward he would hold Shana personally responsible for this waste of time.

"Given this information, I believe a reward is a fair form of compensation." Varys spoke

"Agreed," Barristen adds

"Then we are all in agreement." Rhaegar looks at Hugar, "You will be given three full chests filled with golden dragons as a hard payment with any food and water needed for your journey home."

Hugar gave Rhaegar a nod.

"My thanks Rhaegar-"

Rhaegar holds up his hand.

"I'm not done yet Hugar. I want to propose a deal between your company and the crown."

Hugar raises his eyebrow.

"And what deal is this?"

"What I witness out in the sea cannot be allowed to continue. If someone of my rank can be threatened by pirates like these, then everyone in the Seven Kingdoms is not safe." Rhaegar continues, "You and your crew have proven yourselves you're capable of handling the threat. I would like to formerly hire your entire company on behalf of the crown to deal with these pirates. What do you say?"

Hugar's jaw dropped at the offer. The crown wants to hire his entire company? Sure, it wasn't uncommon for a great house or city to hire an entire company, but that was usually only in dire situations where normal soldiers or knights couldn't be wasted. There were a few instances his own company was hired for basic support from the sea or light raiding. But hunting down pathetic pirates for a steady rate of pay from the Iron Throne itself? Hugar would have to be an idiot not to take that offer.

"My prince" Barristen interjected with worry, "I don't think your allowed to do that. What will the king say?"

Rhaegar turns his head to look at Barristen.

"I believe my father would agree with me Ser Barristen. We cannot have any of our people, lords or peasants, be under threat from pirates. And if my father complains, then I'll talk to him about it." Rhaegar looks back at Hugar. "So, do we have a deal captain Ironshark?"

"Rhaegar…you just got you a deal." Hugar extends his hand to Rhaegar. The prince takes Hugar's hand and shakes its. "Though I'll need to bring my second-in-command to hammer out the details of our contract. She's the one in charge of the finances. And I'll need to go back to Braavos and inform the rest of my company. Also since my company and I will be operating in Westeros we'll need some form of base of operations."

"There is an island north of Dragon Stone, at the northern entrance of Blackwater Bay." Varys spoke up, "An old abandon town with a semi-functional port. You can use that if you will."

"That will be perfect." Says Hugar, "Now excuse me, I need to head back to my ship and grab my second."

"Well alright, the captain. I'll let the Gold Cloaks know to allow your ships to dock and that you're coming to the Red Keep." Rhaegar gives Hugar a bow. "Now you must excuse me, but I must go inform my father of everything."

"Yes, you should my prince." Varys comments, "your betrothed will be most joyous to see you. She hasn't stop pestering me for questions about her future husband since she arrived.

Rhaegar stood in silence as Varys' news sunk in. He looks over at Barristen only to get a simple nod of confirmation from the warrior.

"So my father has found me a wife…may I know her name?"

"Princess Elia Martel of Drone your grace." Varys answers, "Sister of Princes Doran and Oberyn Martel."

"She also brought a few handmaidens with her as well." Barristen looks at Arthur. "Your sister Ashara is one of them, Ser Arthur. Feel free to talk to her as much as you want. You've earned a rest after the trip you just took."

Arthur salutes Barristen.

"Thank you, lord commander. It will be good to know what my family has been up to the last time we spoke…"

Hugar wanted to chuckle at mainlander's conversation as his crew and he was walking back to their lifeboat. One moment they can go from heartfelt thanks to already plotting, or counter-plotting, against rivals. That was one thing Hugar missed about the Iron Islands. Sure, everyone and their grandmother would slit your throat if given a reason, but at least they were upfront about it. The mainlanders preferred to hide their blades behind a smile and civility but make no mistake. The mainlanders were just as savage as his former kin, the only difference was that the Ironborn didn't hide it.

But at the end of the day, this little detour was an unbelievable success. A new base of operations, a steady pay flow, and an incredibly easy job? Hugar wasn't sure how he was going to reward Shana, but he sure was going too. Would his company just be confined to hunting pirates? Would the prince use them as a tool to frighten other noble houses into falling back in line? Hugar couldn't answer these questions. All he did know however was the next few years were going to be interesting.

* * *

 **Well, that was the first chapter of 'A Change in Fate' and I hope all of you enjoyed reading it. The chapter itself didn't take me that long to write, despite me packing stuff away and moving to another city, but the whole story took me a few months to plan. Refreshing myself on lore, characters, and locations to make sure I get as much right as I can.**

 **I'm also going to be real with you, this is going to be a long story. Maybe 50+ chapters long, my longest story I'm going to be writing. I must cover 7 main books (two of which aren't even out yet) along with a decent number of novellas and a popular television series, so for time's sake, I might now be able to go into full detail or explanation for every character and plotline. And to answer those wondering if this story will follow the books or television show, it will be a combination of both. For example, I will be adding more characters from the books, but I will be using the television ages for the characters. That's what I like about AU stories, I can do whatever I want with it.**

 **Also, feel free to check out my other stories as well. They may say 'hiatus' right now, but I'll be updating them once I settle into my new place. Post a review and tell me what you all think. Any criticism might help me with the future chapters. I'll also answer any questions asked as well.**

 **So until next time folks, see you in the next chapter.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: setting plans into motion

"talking"

" **Thinking"**

 _Ship/Weapon names_

Disclaimer: I got nothing for this dislaimer.

* * *

(Harrenhal, the Riverlands)

Hugar had seen many things during his exile. He sailed wherever his ship and crew could take him across this damn world and saw many great sights. From the great Pyramids of Ghis, relics from a bygone era and burnt civilization, to the Titan of Braavos that stands ever vigilant to protect its city. Even the lush jungles and beautiful ebony people of the Summer Isles were no strangers to him. Sights that few Ironborn would ever see and far more impressive than the cluster of rocky islands they called home.

Yet Harrenhal was the only sight that left Hugar speechless.

Every Ironborn knew the story of Harrenhal. From the youngest child to the eldest grandparent, _everyone_ knew the tragedy of the great castle. Over three-hundred years ago, the Ironborn dominated over Westeros in both name and fact. Under the Black-Line of house Hoare, the Ironborn carved out their empire with salt, steel, and song. King Harwyn Hoare lead his great reaver army onto the mainland and carved out his new kingdom on a mountain of bodies. Harwyn broke the back of the Strom Kings and took control of the Riverlands and, what is now, the Crownlands. The kingdoms of the Reach and Westerlands held strong at first, but slowly lost both ground and strength as years of raids and battle took a toll on their lands. The vast snowy North and sun-scorched Dorne were yearly raided by the famed Iron Fleet, overflowing their hauls with thralls. In truth only the Vale was safe, their mountains to vast for an army to penetrate and coastline not worth the long journey to raid. For decades Harwyn conquered, and when he died his son took up the mantle and continued the conquest.

Then Harren the Black, grandson of Harwyn, ascended to the salt-sea throne. Hugar remembers the songs and ballads of the kings bloody and cruel fame towards his enemies and the conquered. Hugar's favorite ballad was how Harren sailed down a river of the Reach to raid a fortified town and the local lords learning catching wind of the attack. The small army that was raised had planned to stop Harren by blocking the riverway, splitting the army onto both sides of the river and rain arrows down upon the coming ships. But Harren arrived earlier then expected and saw the army had already spilt, but not have their missile units ready, so he attacked. Harren landed on the side of the river with the weaker force and slaughtered them as their comrades on the other side had to watch helplessly and full of fear. Yet even then Harren was not finished. He took whatever survivors he found to a small island in the river and sacrificed them to the Drowned God by drowning them in the river and then proceeding to mount their corpses on stakes to deny their physical bodies to be given to the deep. The remnants of the Reachmen army fled in terror and left the town to be plundered.

Though the battle displayed Harren's cruelty, it wasn't what made him infamous. For one day Harren decided that he needed a grand castle worthy of the fledging empire his people had made. For forty years Harren spared no expense in coin, manpower, and resources to build his grand vision. Thousands of Rivermen thralls labored to raise the strong stone walls and towers. Decades of continuous raiding by the army and navy to keep feeding the growing project. Rivers of gold and silver being dried up to import the finest material and craftsmen from Essos. Yet through dozens of revolts, harsh winters, and sometimes sheer lack of materials, Harren had achieved his dream.

Once finished, Harrenhal was known far and wide as the greatest castle Westeros had ever seen. The castle covered more land than Winterfell, Storms End, and Casterly Rock combined. Five massive towers stood guard over the walls and reaching up to the sky like five stone finger trying to grasp the sun itself. The small harbor sat upon the Gods Eye, the largest lake in the Seven Kingdoms, so supplies could be brought up from the river that feeds into the lake and a possible escape route if the castle was ever breached. Not since the great Wall of the Northern realm had such a structure been built to the single purpose of defense. No doubt Harren swelled with pride as he held the greatest castle in Westeros with the army to defend it.

But as the final stone was set, Aegon the conqueror and his dragons took their first steps onto Westeros.

Hugar couldn't imagine what Harren's reaction was when he heard of Aegon's landing. Perhaps he had thought the silver-haired warrior was just another petty noble that could be beaten like everyone else with his sisters being made into salt wives and slaughter the three dragons like the famed Grey King druing the Age of Heroes. Though Hugar didn't know Harren's thoughts, he did know his fate. For Aegon had no interest in laying siege to Harrrenhal. Aegon mounted his dragon, Balerion the Black Dread, and unleashed dragon fire on the great castle. Harren, all his sons, and the great reaver army were all roasted alive by Aegon's dragon as those who attempted to flee the fire being cut down by Aegon's waiting army. And when the night went and dawn came all that was left were uncountable charred corpses, melted stone, and the end of an era.

After the defeat of Harrenhal, the Ironborn only continued to suffer defeat after defeat. With the great reaver army destroyed, the remaining soldiers of the mainland couldn't muster an effective defense against Aegon's army, revolts from the Rivermen, and the other kingdoms who wanted payback all at once. In only a short few years the empire that took three generations to build was no more than their home islands. Aegon gave the Ironborn a choice, bend the knee or have their entire culture and people wiped from history. So the Ironborn bent the knee and submitted to the future king of the what would become the Seven Kingdoms.

Shame, shame is what every Ironborn felt when Harrenhal was brought up. Personally shamed that their destiny to rule Westeros was taken from them by three flying lizards. Shamed into falling back in line when their raiding got to out of control or else all they would join Harren and his army in the afterlife. And for Hugar, shame towards kin who would rather sit around remembering faded glory then finding a new way to reclaim their greatness.

"Lord Ironshark, Lord Ironshark!"

Hugar was brought out of his thoughts as he saw Arthur riding towards him and calling out his name. Hugar snickers at the sight of Arthur trying his best to control his horse as the beast tries desperately to buck the knight off it's back.

"Having trouble with your nag Arthur?"

Arthur stops his horse in front of Hugar with the beast still trying to remove its rider. "Everything is under- gods damn it stop- control Hugar. You know how a new horse- I'll feed you to the kennels if you don't stop moving – can be."

"I understand," Hugar said with a smile. "Now why were you calling me?"

"Prince Rheagar requests your presence." Hugar was about to say something else, but Arthur stops him by raising his hand. "I don't know what for. All I know is that he told me to go find you before we reach Harrenhal's gates."

"Then I better get going." Hugar gallops past Arthur. "You coming or you going to stay here and fail in keeping your horse under control?"

Arthur and Hugar hurried their horses down the paved cobblestone path, passing by the other carriages and mounted guards. All around them were open fields of grass with only the occasional cluster of trees or a small farm hold with its smallfolk attending their crops and animals. As the two men rode, Hugar began reflecting on how he got here.

The last year had been interesting, to say the least. It wasn't the pirate crews that made it interesting, crushing them was mere child's play, but the prince himself. When not at their new island base, Shark's Cove the locals dubbed it, Hugar and most his company spend their time in Kings Landing. Though merry making wasn't uncommon, it was mostly business in the capital. Rhaegar always found a job for his men, whether it be helping guarding merchant ships, delivering messages, or handling highwaymen, there was always something the prince needed done. It could've been worse, Hugar could have caught the ire of the king and be burned at the stake. He'd gladly be out of the capital doing menial tasks then being roasted alive like a stuffed pig. But the conversations he had with Rheagar whenever both of them were free brought a new level of interest to Hugar.

It only started after a few weeks Hugar was formally hired by the crown. He was told that his presence was required in Rheagar's personal study, and so he went. Once in the study, resembling more like a Maesters sanctum filled with volumes of books, maps, and trinkets Hugar had no clue what their purpose was, Rhaegar bombarded him with questions. Questions about what? The Iron Islands and its people out of all things. Not the usual, 'why do your people rape and pillage everything in sight', but who were the people themselves? Like how do they live and the rules they live by. Hugar was confused, but he answered the best he could anyways. He was no scholar or skald and Rhaegar understood it. Though it didn't stop the prince from asking more questions as time went on.

Even to this day, Hugar was perplexed by it. Most mainlanders took the basics of Ironborn culture; reaving, sailing, and thralls, and left it at that. Rhaegar was different, He wanted to hear the sagas of the great Ironborn legends of old. Wanted to know why the Ironborn choose to plunder other lands rather than focus on developing their own lands. Why did his kin elect their Kings rather than it being birthright? Even the faith of the Drowned God was brought up during their conversations. Hugar didn't know why Rhaegar asked these questions, and frankly, he didn't care. He was just glad for the nice change from the norm.

Though that didn't stop the rumors that spread through the Red Keep and Kings Landing. Hugar didn't really pay much attention to them. All he needed to hear was 'savage' and 'corrupting' to the get the idea what folks were talking about. He was there to do a job and gladly be paid for doing said job.

Hugar seizes his inner thoughts once again as he and Arthur came up upon Rheagar's carriage. A basic design with dark crimson curtains over the windows, finely crafted mahogany wood as the body and strong brass wheels that rolled smoothly along the road. Arthur motions for Hugar to go up to the carriage window closest to the driver. Hugar brings his horse up against the carriage.

The crimson curtain is pushed to the side as Rhaegar's face emerges from behind.

"Good day there lord Ironshark. I take everything has been going well, enjoying the sights?"

"Could be better." Hugar says, "Not fond of looking at the castle that marked the end of my forefather's glory."

"That was caused by my family. Believe me, I am not lost on the awkwardness."

" **At least he knows."** Hugar thought to himself. "What did you call me for Rhaegar?"

Rhaegar chuckles, "Never one for small talk." Rhaegar pulls out a rolled-up scroll and holds it out the window. Hugar grabs the rolled-up piece of paper. "That hold my instructions of tasks that need to be done before my father arrives. Once you and your entourage are settled in, I need you to get right to that."

Hugar places the parchment inside of his coat.

"Any reason you are not telling me now?"

"The letter will explain much more than I can at the moment. I would do it myself, but Elia and I must address the lords and ladies of the tourney as well as meet with lord Walter Whent." Rheagar continues, "Also, once you're done reading it. Burn the letter. You'll understand when you read it."

Hugar nods.

"Thank you Hugar." Rhaegar smiles at Hugar. "You don't how much you are helping me."

"You are my employer. It's my job to make you happy."

"No, that's my job lord Ironshark." A feminine voice called out from the carriage. "Also, could you ask Lady Shana if she'll join me and my hand-maiden later to listen to the minstrels? It's been quite some time since we've spend any time together."

"Of course, Elia. Though I still don't know how you managed to get her to like some that stuff."

"A woman has her ways lord Ironshark." Elia giggles, "Maybe you'll understand tonight when Rheagar plays his harp during the feast. He has even composed a new song for the event."

"Don't hold your breath Elia." Rhaegar said, "Hugar prefers the sound of battle and the tavern then any melody of a refined instrument."

"Good to know you've taken notice of my preferences." Hugar turns his horse around. "I'll do what needs to be done Rhaegar. I'll try and find you before the feast starts."

Rheagar nods at Hugar. "Thank you Hugar. You really don't know how important this is."

"Given you and your mainlander vagueness, I can only guess."

And without saying another word, Hugar rides his horse back to the end of the escort. His thoughts went to the letter in his coat. What was the task that required him? To be honest, Hugar didn't care. He wasn't paid enough to ask questions. And Hugar was fine with it.

* * *

(Harrenhal, some time later)

"…and then the knight with the laughing tree on their shield just rode off right after collecting the prize money. Didn't even bother to keep it, just handed all the gold dragons to the crannogman and took off."

"Shame I wasn't able to witness the match."

Rheagar couldn't help but give a small smile at lord Walter Whent's retelling of warrior he dubbed, "The Knight of the Laughing Tree." Two days before Rheagars arrival, a group of rowdy hedge knights had assaulted the heir to house Reed, the ruling family in the swampy neck region of Westeros that divided the north and southern realms, before being stopped by the children of House Stark, house Reeds vassal lord and the wardens of the North. However later in the day, during a melee tournament, the crannogman returned with a heavily armored knight with a smiling weirwood tree painted on their shield as his champion. From Walter's own description, it wasn't even a contest as the knight bested all the challengers like a bear crushing fish in its jaws. Riding in circles against the other contestants and dismounting them with no trouble. And just a mysterious as they arrived, the Knight of the Laughing Tree fled the tourney without a single word.

Rheagar felt disappointed he couldn't see the match. One of the main bridges to Harrenhal collapsed and their group had to go a separate, more time-consuming route. Rheagar hoped to meet this knight and have him tested. Perhaps as a Kingsguard for the throne or to watch over his younger brother Viserys.

"And you have no clue what became of this knight, lord Whent?"

Rheagar and Walter turn around to face Elia standing behind them. Unblemished almond colored skin complimented the bright yellow and orange dress that covered her slender frame. Her large brown eyes, filled with a warmth and kindness Rheagar grew to appreciate the past year, staring at her husband and the lord of Harrenhal with curiosity. Only her gaunt face, a permanent sign of her poor health and being born earlier than expected, detracted from Elia's natural beauty as her brown hair was done in a single large braid that stretched along her entire back. But Rheagar didn't care, her genuine kind personality was a blessing in the cesspool of Kings Landing.

Standing at Elia's side were three men of the Kingsguard and one other woman. The men were Arthur on her right with his gleaming gold helm upon his head and standing at the ready. To Elia's left was Oswell Whent, Walter's younger brother and recently appointee of Rheagar's personal guard, with his family's sigil, a black bat, emblazoned on his helm. To the very back of Elia and the other woman was Gerold Hightower, the current lord commander of the Kingsguard after Barristan Semly's demotion, the ever stoic and silent guard as ever. All three men worthy of respect and merit to the crown. But despite three Kingsguard, the future king and queen, and the lord of Harrenhal being in each other's company, the woman standing right behind would have attracted any stranger's attention.

The woman's voluptuous body was wrapped up in a rich violet dressed that clung like a seconded skin and complemented her fair skin. Luscious black locks of hair the color of night cascaded down to her shoulders. Her face was as if the finest Valyrian sculptor of old put the embodiment of beauty to human form. The woman's eyes were haunting pools of purple that once you saw, the sight would never leave. This woman was Ashara Dayne, handmaiden to Elia and sister to Arthur.

Rhaegar felt sorry for his wife. He heard the stories that before he and Elia married that any potential suitor that came to court his wife would immediately change their focus once they laid eyes on Ashara. He always cracked a small smile when he heard how Oberyn, Elia's older brother, would often chase the suitor out of Sunspear with his spear pointed at them. Thankfully for Elia, and Ashara by Elia's own words, those days were finally over.

"Sadly, no my future queen." Walter said, "I would have love to meet this man. Such talent needs to be rewarded properly. Not flee out of fear of retribution."

"Who said it was a man?" Ashara asks. "A woman could have easily put on a set of armor and fought. You said it yourself, their armor was covered their entire body and their helm hid their face."

Walter let out a good laugh. "This isn't exactly Drone my lady. You just don't come across women around here who ride as good as that. It had to be a man."

Ashara rolls her eyes and waves her hand. "Details, details."

"It is a shame though." Arthur broke his silence. "I would have loved to test my blade against such a warrior. It's been far too long since I had a proper fight."

Ashara turns to her brother with a deadpan look.

"Your horse would've kicked you off before the two of you could clash blades."

"Aye, Sir Dayne." Oswell added in a cheery tone, "Your horse would crack your skull before any warrior can."

Arthur sighs, "Fine. I wish I was a better horseman, then I wish I could fight against the knight."

Ashara smiles, "That sounds more right."

"Anyways," Walter brings the attention back to himself. "where is this Ironborn I've heard so much about? Hugar was it? I was told he would be riding with you."

"He and his entourage are here," Rheagar replied. "But he is indisposed of at the moment. Handling personal business of mine before the king arrives."

Walter nods. "Aww of course. But why send him? Surely anyone else in your entourage would be a better choice."

"It would attract too much attention. This matter requires a subtle touch. No one would assume a group of Ironborn of any…." Rheagar pauses, trying to think of the appropriate words. "wrongdoing during a tourney filled with fighting, drinks, and women. Well, aside from the obvious."

"Pardon me, my love." Elia walks up to Rheagar and places her hand on his shoulder. "Is it wise to talk about such personal matters right now? We should be enjoying ourselves with the festivities. Not attending to business."

"It perfectly fine my dear." Walter steps in between the two. "It will be my pleasure to aid the prince with any matters while he is a guest in my home. Feel free to lay as many of your troubles on me as you like. Also, don't worry about any curious ears, most folks prefer staying around the tents and tourney grounds. Too scared of the old legends of Harrenhal to stay inside the castle for longer than what is needed."

Rhaegar didn't show it, but he was relieved beyond measure. Though there still could be ears listening or eyes watching his every move. Even when he was surrounded by trusted individuals while on an exterior walkway above the castle grounds. He could not tell of his plans.

This whole tourney to celebrate Walter Went's daughters name day was a sham. Not the name day part, that was true, but the _true_ purpose of why so many lords and knights coming to Harrrenhal in the first place. Rhaegar needed allies to make his own father abdicate the Iron Throne. Why else would he funnel so much money to Walter by using Oswell as the intermediary? Having Elia and Ashara send out coded messages to house Martel and many other Dornish houses to fake a diplomatic envoy just so they can bring hundreds of warriors to the capital. Sir Gerold pledging that the Kings Guard would not come to Aerys' aid while Arthur dealt with the white cloaks. Even Hugar, no matter how unaware, was doing his own small part to aid him in this endeavor.

It all started well before marrying Elia and meeting Hugar, at a town called Duskendale. House Darklyn, the lord of the Duskendale and its lands, one day grown tired of Aerys and his Hand of the King, Tywin Lannister, taxes and refused to pay them. Envoys were sent but the patriarch of House Darklyn, Denys Darklyn, refused to meet anyone unless the king himself came to listen to his quarrel. And so Aerys went and fell right into the trap. For nearly a year, Aerys was held as a prisoner while himself and Tywin laid sieged to the walled town. It wasn't till Barristen Selmy infiltrated the castle by himself and opened the gates was the king finally saved. Yet what happened next was beyond any form of civilized justice.

Aerys had not only sentence the entire house of Darklyn, innocent or not, to death but the entire bloodline. Condemning House Hollard, who held blood-ties through marriage, to the sword as well. The men were forced to watch as all the women and children throats were slit before they themselves had their genitals sliced from their bodies and bled out like pigs. Only after were they drained of their blood where they were tossed upon large pyres and their charred corpses being hanged from the walls of Duskendale as a stark reminder.

 _Never_ betray the king.

Only the young squire Dontos Hollard was spared due to Barristen's timely intervention and begging of Aerys. The same squire that would cost Barristetn to lose his lord commander status for his foolish nature. At the time, Rheagar had enough of Duskendale and let the whole event fade into memory. Yet the vengeful madness that Aerys found in Duskendale only followed him back to Kings Landing.

It didn't matter what the crime was committed or who did it, they all were given to the pyre of Aerys. From lowliest thief to that of his own court, none were spared from Aerys' paranoid wrath. And as heir, it was mandatory for Rheagar to attend every trial and execution to learn how the crowns justice worked. Had to set an example his father told him. Rheagar stood by helpless as learned men and women of court were slowly replaced by pyromancer and their sickly green wildfire. Aerys' wouldn't even let the royal barbers near him out of fear that they would kill him, allowing his white hair and beard to reach the middle of his chest and fingernails to extend out like a hawk's talons. Even Tywin, Aerys childhood friend and companion in war, had grown frustrated and returned to his family's castle. The once dashing and energetic young man that could take on the world was replaced by a frail old man who saw daggers in every shadow.

It had only been after Elia gave birth to his firstborn, a perfectly healthy daughter, and was now carrying their second did Rheagar realized that his father couldn't rule anymore. What if Elia, their children, or any of her brothers accidently insulted the king or something that Aerys perceived as an insult? Rheagar had no doubt in his mind his father would burn his wife and children alive just to punish him for not keeping a reign on his family. That was why he needed allies to take the throne and stop the madness that took hold of his father.

But there laid the heart of the problem, Rheagar needed allies. Aerys' may have been mad, but he was smart enough to contain his madness to Kings Landing and the Crownlands. Even when other noble houses came to the capital Aerys' assigned the prince or those of the small council to meet and deal with them. Anyone who didn't reside in Kings Landing wouldn't have clue to Aerys' doing. All they would know was the poor king who lost so many children to miscarriage, who was imprisoned by his own his own vassals, and who hadn't even left his own keep since his return from Duskendale was forced at sword point to give up his throne by a power-hungry son. Most of the Seven Kingdoms saw the king as a victim of the fate and would come to the man's aid.

But it everything went according to plan, then Harrenhal will be known as the place where a king's madness was stopped before it could infect the entire realm. Rheagar really needed to thank the man who gave him the idea. Some minor Vale lord with mint-scented breath assigned to transport the Vales annual tribute to the crown. Perhaps he would give the man the duty of collecting taxes or keeping tabs on merchant ships. But that was the secured future, he needs to focus on the uncertain present.

"I'm fine lord Went, truly. Just wondering what my father will make of all this. He hasn't left the Red Keep in so many years."

"Well don't you worry my prince. Hopefully everything will be settled when he arrives for the feast."

"If you say so my lord…"

Walter claps his hands together with a large grin on his face.

"Good. Now let us continue to the fairgrounds." Walter turns from Rhaegar and returns to walking and motioning for the rest of the group to follow. "The archery competition will start soon and we need to make haste. I gamble many gold dragons against the damn Black Fish and I want to see his face when I win."

Without delay, the rest of the group follows Walter as the lord of Harrenhall continued to talk about those who participated in the past events of the week and who will be in the coming days. Rheagar drowned out Walter's voice as he switched his attention down to the bustling crowd below.

The amount of people packed in such a small place going about their own lives reminded Rheagar of Kings Landing. The array of tents was all set up in such a way that the makeshift roads were wide enough for a carriage to ride across on, but still enough room for the mob to move around freely. The tents themselves were all varying sizes and color with some holding vendors selling their wares to those with coin while others sold food and drink to those seeking a minor rest from the festival or to gamble their coin away. Both smallfolk and nobles walked the castle grounds, the noble folk in their brightly colored finery made them stood out from the duller practical clothing of commoners. From what Rhaegar could see everyone was joyous and festive.

Just how many of them were here to keep an eye on him, the prince wondered. How many of Varys' 'little birds' did the eunuch have at the tourney? The pudgy spymaster was ever the resourceful man when it came to bringing secret plots to the light. Varys probably knew of the true purpose of the celebration and was the one to convince Aerys to leave the capital. What could that man hope to gain from the king? Varys saw how mad and paranoid Aerys was. That was why his father brought him to Westeros in the first place. There must be a way to make Varys switch his loyalties-

" **Who are they?"**

Out of the crowd stood four individuals with the strangest attire Rheagar had seen in some time. Their clothing wasn't outrageous like so many other noblemen, but rather too plain and practical. Rheagar could tell that they were highborn, or at least belonging to a wealthy merchant family, by how they carried themselves. The confidence of how they stood up with their heads held high and unafraid to be seen. So much unlike the smallfolk, who tried their best to keep their heads down and try not to catch any high lord's attention.

Two young men stood well over a head taller than their two companions and wore dark blue long-sleeve tunics and breeches with dark leather boots, gloves, and cuirass'. Their shaggy dark hair was combed back and reaching down to the nape of their necks with the only difference between the two was that was clean shaven and the other had patchy stubble all along his cheeks and jawline. The third young man, barely tall enough to reach the chests of the other two men, wore a similar outfit though all the dark blue cloth was replaced by a dark green colored version and a patchwork of green clothes that formed a hooded cloak over his small yet stocky frame. A pelt of dirty copper colored hair upon his head and a scraggly beard. Rheagar eyes then went to the final person of their group-

" **By the seven…"**

Rhaegar was taken back at the sight of the final person in their small clique. The young woman was about the same height as the man in the green cloak but lacked the stocky mass of muscle. She wore a flowing royal blue dress over her tone yet pale body. Her black hair reminded him of Ashara's, but instead of the bouncy curls of the Dornishwomen's this lady's hair was straight and fell past her shoulders. Yet her big gray colored eyes drew Rheager into them. They were filled with a joy he'd only seen when Elia's brothers came a visit her in Kings Landing or vice versa. Her smile, showing a perfect row of white teeth the color of fresh snow, sent a warm feeling through the prince's chest. Just what was this feeling-

"Looks like you found the northern pups and the baby lion-lizard my prince."

Rheagar turns his head around to see Ashara right beside him with a knowing smirk on her face. The others in their small party all seize walking once again and look at Ashara.

"What was that lady Dayne?" Lord Wently asks

Ashara points out at the crowd, and more accurately, towards the four people that Rheagar was staring at.

"The children of House Stark and Reed my lord." Ashara replied, "the same children you mentioned that were with the Knight of the Laughing Tree. Apparently, Prince Rheagar found them in the rabble."

"Truly?" Waltor walks towards the railings of the ledge and looks where the Stark children and the son of Reed are standing. "Well done my prince. You found the characters of my story. Impressive considering the crowd below."

"Their clothing. Too plain and practical for a southerner." Rheagar said, "But for Northmen, the look fits."

"Ohh it fits _very_ well my lord." Ashara eying the young Stark with the clean-shaven face with a sultry look. "Is it me or does young Eddard Stark look more dashing than I last saw him?"

All the men around Ashara rolled their eyes while Elia brought her hand up to her face to hide her small smile as she giggles. When Rheagar was left on his infamous mission to Penthos, his father used his sons' absences to bring several ladies from multiple houses to the capital to be his future wife. One of these houses that came was house Arryn, the wardens of the Vale and one of the oldest houses of Andal nobility, with Jon Arryn, the leader of house Arryn, coming himself to parade his niece to Aerys. Yet when Jon Arryn came he brought not only his niece but also his two wards.

Rheagar didn't know the full details, but he knew that the eldest son of House Baratheon, wardens of the Stormlands, and the middle son of House Stark, wardens of the North, were sent to be the Vale to be fostered by Jon Arryn. Rheagar also didn't know why they were taken to Kings Landing, but the rumors and reputation around the young men left an impression on the Red Keep. Robert Baratheon left two great reputations in the Red Keep, one with the Kingsguard in the sparring ring and the other with the serving girls in empty rooms. The young stag was wild and fierce, but cared little for the learned ways of books and learning Rheagar enjoyed. Most likely a friendship between the two would never come to be, though that could be the same for him and Hugar.

Now his pseudo-brother Eddard Stark, on the other hand, was a different story. Though Rheagar never met the young man, he heard many good things. The Stark was described as an honest, fair, if not a reserved young man that mainly kept to himself or to Jon Arryn or and Robert. Yet this young wolf drew somehow caught the attention of Ashara. Elia had told him that the two were seen talking with the each other on occasion. Well, technically Ashara did most of the talking while Eddard stuttered and was blushing like a maiden on her wedding night. Even when the two parted ways Ashara wrote to Eddard once in a full moon.

Rheagar asked Elia why the two nobles kept their correspondence, he only got a knowing smile and the phrase, 'making the wolf howl below the falling star' as a reply. To this day, he still didn't know what that meant.

"It's you, sister." Arthur speaking in a deadpan tone. "It's rather sickening listening to you gush over that Northerner."

Ashara crosses her arms and glares at Arthur.

"Unlike you dear brother I still appreciate the ideals of courtship and romance. Maybe you'll understand when you find a women-" Ashara replaces her glare with a 'shocked' expression. "Ohh right, your Kingsguard vows. Guess you'll just have to accept that you'll never know a woman's love or touch again. Don't worry, I'm sure Sir Barristan will give you a few pointers."

Arthur stares at his smirking sister with no emotion in his face.

"I pray for the man you end up marrying."

"Don't worry Lady Ashara." All eyes once again return to Walter. "You'll have your chance to meet the young Stark later at the feast. There will even be dancing."

Ashara smiles and nods at Walter. Rheagar swore he could see Ashara's mind plotting something. He wished good fortune to this Eddard.

"Wonderful my lord."

Walter turns to Rheagar.

"Now, if there are no more interruptions, can we please continue to the fairgrounds?"

Rheagar nods, "Of course Lord Wently. Sorry for delaying us."

"It is alright my prince." Walter motions for the group to continue walking. "If we hurry we'll only miss the opening ceremony."

The group continues walking with more haste than before. As Rheagar walks away he notices, out of the corner of his eye, the Stark children and Reed's son walk away in the opposite direction of where they were going. Soon the group of four disappeared into the crowd with not even their clothing giving any clue where they went. It was interesting seeing not only the people of Walters story as well as the young man who caught Ashara's fancy. Yet that still didn't explain what he felt when he looked at the young woman, Lyanna Stark.

The heat and tightness that shot through Rheagar's chest, it was a weird feeling to manifest now. It wasn't uncommon when he held his daughter, being told that Elia was pregnant once again, and even when he thought of his mother and father during his childhood to feel this sensation. But looking at the Stark girl? It just didn't make any sense. That smile, those eyes, that dress over her body, why couldn't he get that woman out of his head and this feeling from his chest?!

…Maybe it was just him overreacting. All this stress with his father and his plans beings reviled was finally getting to his head. Yes, that must have been it. And seeing the four Northmen who would never have to deal with the politics of the south just put it into perspective for Rheagar. This Lyanna was just the face he associated with it. How much he envied the decedents of the First Men that they did not have to deal with such treachery in betraying family. Rheagar hoped that those four young people would never deal in such a world.

Perhaps he should have listened to Walter and just hurry to the archery competition.

* * *

(Harrenhal docks, Riverlands)

Hugar slams the foul-smelling ale down his gullet. The rotten taste of expired fish was almost enough to make him whence in disgust. Whoever oversaw the brewing of this drink needed to be hanged for doing such a piss-poor job. Even liquefied pig shit would have been a better drink then this ale. But it was either this or drink overly priced wine or tasteless water. The choice was obvious as the sun rising.

Only a moment after bringing the cup to his lips, Hugar emptied said cup of the foul drink. Hugar places the cup back onto the rather plain table in front of him. He reaches for one of the small loafs of bread laid out on one of the many plates laid out. Their contents were nothing fancy, loafs of bread, slices of salted pork, a few bowls of fruit, and many cups of the shitty tasting ale. All that Hugar could buy given the coin him and his company brought. At least the coming feast later would be worth this poor excuse of a meal.

All around Hugar was the number of his crew, no larger than thirty, who he came as his entourage. They lounged about in front of the tavern, gorging themselves on food, gambling away valuables amongst each other, or trying to bed the occasional tavern wench. Not too far away were the docks of Harrenhal where many ships were anchored with dockworkers unloading their cargo and taking it to who knows where. A boring sight that lost its luster a while ago.

"How much longer do we have to wait? Do you know how many competitions we could have seen by now, or by the Drowned God's blessing, actually participated in some and won some coin?" The old man to Hugar's left said as he took a bite out of the slab of pork in his hand. The man wore the standard clothing and armor of an Ironborn and those under Hugar's command. His face blotchy and wrinkled, but with each line holding a decade's worth of experience. His facial hair patchy and the color of salt and pepper mixed with the only other hair on his head being clumps of gray on his scalp and bushy eyebrows. The elderly man looks at Hugar with his dark brown eyes. "The melee had the prize of over five-hundred dragons for the winner. You could have wiped the floor against any of those highborn milk drinkers. Especially that Robert Baratheon fellow."

"Or he could have pissed off the young stag and got in a brawl later by the ale caskets Colton." Shana spoke up as she polishes her dagger with a rag. "Or get drunk by this Robert till the Hugar reeked like Kings Landing. Anything could be possible with that man." Shana stops cleaning her dagger, placing the rag on the table and the blade back in the sheath on her hip. She looks at Hugar with some concern. "Are you sure this is wise Hugar? We don't know which house is coming to meet us. Could be house Harlaw for all we know. They have the most mainland connections and be the most affected by the coming future."

Hugar's hand tighten around his cup at the mention of _that_ name. The sound of cracking could be heard coming from the wooden cup in his hand. Hugar took a deep breath before loosening the grip on his cup.

"You don't think I know that Smiles?" Hugar puts his empty cup to the side and grabs another one. "But Rheagar gave us a job to do, and we're going to do it. It is our duty." Hugar takes another drink.

Colton scuffs, "Duty Hugar? You're starting to sound like one of these mindless knights that obey their master's orders like a dog." Colton lays the piece of pork on the table and leans in at Hugar. "Hugar, this isn't our fight. We're not pawns in some mainlander political game, we sell our blades and ships and do our best at surviving. We know how this story ends. If we leave now, there might be a chance we escape with our heads still connected to our bodies."

"Or we could be walking away from one of the biggest rewards we will ever see." Shana butts into the conversation. "If Rheagar succeeds and we're right by his side when he takes throne how much will we get as a reward? Wealth, lands, and the king of the Seven Kingdoms in debt to us. A debt we can leverage to get some revenge on those who cast us out of our home."

"And if he fails?" Colton said with panic laced in his speech, "Where will the first fingers be pointed at? Us. They will say our savage influence poisoned Rheagar's mind to act in a barbaric way. We'll lose everything and be given to the pyre. An Ironborn needs to be given to the deep, not end up a burnt husk. Better we just take our ships back to the Essos and go back to-"

"Go back to what Colton?" Shana glares, "Us being screwed over by fat merchants? Going through forests, contested waters, and god knows what else just to be ambushed and left for dead? Maybe for a gutless sea dog like you, but there is nothing for us going back."

Colton glares back at Shana.

"Careful with your words salt daughter. If it were for your grandfather taking to the seas and sticking his cock into your grandmother you wouldn't even be here talking with us." Colton points and himself with his thumb. "I've been spilling blood and sweat longer than you can even imagine-"

"That's enough you two."

Colton and Shana stop their glaring at one another and look back at Hugar. Their captain had the absolute look of disappointment on his face, with said look directly aimed at them. They both back down from each other and sunk into their chairs. Hugar took another drink from his cup.

"I appreciate your concerns and are noted. But until whoever shows up, I won't make a single decision about our future roles." Hugar slams the ale once again down his throat before placing the cup back on the table. He then proceeds to get up from his chair and stretch his arms. "Besides, it would be rather rude to ignore our employer's guests while we bicker about our own problems."

Colton and Shana both turn from around and towards Gods Eye lake that rested beside the great castle. Gliding through the water was a small Ironborn longship, designed to navigate the rivers of the mainland and transport a small group of men, with a dark crimson sail with a black and gold warhorn sigil proudly on display. Out of all the houses that could they had to meet, this one was the furthest from their thoughts.

House Goodbrother was by far the largest house of all the Iron Islands. Their home of Great Wyk, the largest island of their archipelago, held the safest Iron, Tin, and Lead mines that allowed them to equip their warriors with the finest weapons and armor. The cadet branches of their family were on every island, with the exclusion of Lonely Light, and carried a decent presence. Often when the relations of two or more houses soured to a point of open conflict, Goodbrother would sit the sides down and make everyone reach an agreement. A tradition started at the foundation of their house thousands of years ago that won the respect of the other houses, well those living anyways.

Hugar walks around the table and towards the docks with his two underlings proceeding right behind him. The rest of Hugar's entourage saw their leader walk towards the docks and raise themselves from their positions to follow him. Yet as Hugar and his men walked, the longship anchored itself against of the docking platforms and lowered a walking plank. And nearly as quickly as the plank was firmly planted on the platform, a man walks out of the ship with a small company of men following right behind him.

The men wore the standard Ironborn clothing of dirty sealskin pants and tunics, hard leather boots, and the metal chest piece, gauntlets, helms, and greaves like Hugar's men. Though the major differences were that instead of the shark sigil, these Ironborn wore the Goodbrother warhorn on their chest pieces with the man in front of the group having a red, black, and gold colored cloak wrapped around his shoulders but his face for Hugar to see.

It was a stern face and narrow face, one that seemed deprived of any signs of enjoyment. His long oily brown hair fell from his head as did his mustache that reached past his jaw and swayed with each step. The man's unflinching hazel eyes remained focus on Hugar as the two men walked closer and closer to each other. As the two groups closed in on each other, palms were placed on sword hilts or handaxes being left to rest on shoulders just in chase anything happens. Only Hugar and the cloaked refuse to let a 'maybe' overtake their reason and purpose why they were all here in the first place.

The two groups finally stood in front of each other in the middle of the docks and stood there in silence while sizing the other up. Bystanders nearby notice the two groups of Ironborn staring the other down and have the good sense to back away from them as far as possible. The man in the cloak focus remained on Hugar, his eyes staring into Hugar's own. Minutes pass as no one moved an inch or spoke a single word until the man in the cloak raised his fist and placed it over his heart.

"What is dead may never die…"

Hugar responds by placing his own fist over his heart.

"…But rises again, harder and stronger."

"What is dead may never die."

The two groups behind the men chanted out loud. The man in the cloak nods and he lowers his arm.

"Good to know you all haven't forsaken your forefather."

Hugar lowers his arm. "My crew and I are just as Ironbron as you lot."

"If that was true you'd still be on the islands." The man motions at Harrenhal, "Not living with overstuffed mainlanders and their whores."

"Better gold and food at least. Their ale is shit though." Hugar crosses his arms. "Though you wouldn't really know that when all that time is spent kissing the asses of those old sea hags."

The cloaked man grunts. "Can't argue with that Ironshark." The man points at himself. "Warne Goodbrother of Blacktyde."

The two men extended their arms and shook each other's hands. Both of their respective groups relax as they walk pass their leaders and greet one another. The bystanders around the two groups saw the friendly behavior being exchange and return to their own matters, but keeping a fair distance away. Hugar and Warne stop their handshaking with Hugar pointing to his table.

"I have a table ready for us. Food is alright, ale tastes like piss." Hugar looks at Colton and Shana. "Colton, Smiles, with me." Colton and Shana turn to Hugar and nod. Hugar shouts to the rest of his men. "The rest of you, go back to what you were doing."

"The same goes for you lot!" Warne addresses his men, "Get your fill of drink, food, and women. The Greyjoy's gave us the gold for this trip. Might as well use it."

Warne's group of Ironborn gave a hearty cheer as both them and Hugar's crew left their leaders to their own devices. Colton, Hugar, Shana, and Warne made their way back to the table and sat down. Warne grabs a cup of ale and takes a drink. Yet once the brown liquid touches his tongue his face twists into a disgusting frown. Warne places the cup back onto the table with the expression still on his face.

"By the Drowned God that tastes awful."

"Warned you." Hugar said, "Food does taste better though."

"I'm sure it does." Warne says dismissingly. "Now, do you want to get straight to business or not? I got a pouch full of gold and I want to sample the local flavors as soon as possible."

"Business first." Shana rests her left arm on the table while looking at Warne. "But first, I didn't expect a Goodbrother to come. A Harlaw or Saltcliffe, yes, but not a Goodbrother."

"Ohh they had all plans to." Warne takes another drink from his cup. Adjusting to the ale's taste, but still frowning in disgust. "But when Quellon said they would have to meet with you lot they quickly lost all interest. I think the phrase, 'usurpers turn gold collared thralls' was thrown around during that meeting."

"They can take their phrase and shove it up their shitters!" Colton slams his fist on the table causing it to slightly shake. "No one calls us thralls. We've been fighting and bleeding for years while they sat on their asses. But once we start collecting gold they look down at us like thralls rolling around in shit. Ohh if they were here right now I would gladly introduce them to my ax blade-"

"Colton we get the idea, fuck them." Shana cuts off Colton. She turns to Warne, "Though by that comment about us I take it they have no intention of intervening in mainlander business?"

"If they have no interest then I wouldn't be here salt child." Warne reaches out and plucks an apple from a bowl on the table. He proceeds to wipe the fruit on his tunic. "Many of the houses wanted nothing to do with the prince's message, but Quellon saw it as an opportunity." Warne brings the apple up to his mouth and takes a bite.

Hugar looks at both Colton and Shana with his eyebrow raised. He got no reaction out of Colton as the elderly man appeared as he was still trying to process the information. From Shana, he only got a shrug of the shoulders and with an 'I don't know' expression on her face.

Hugar looks back at Warne. "Opportunity?"

"Yeah." Warne takes another bite from his apple. "You know how Quellon is. Bring Maesters to advise the houses instead of the Drowned Men, trying to open up trade with the mainland, and a lot of other stuff that causes the other houses to throw a fit." Warne swallows his food. "Yet ever since your family's revolt his efforts got a straight kick in the cock. But ever since he found out the prince hired you and your crew Quellon's started making his case while looking for the perfect moment to shut the traditionalists up."

"And Rheagar's asking for help was the perfect moment?"

"Yup, but it's not that simple." Warne continues, "Quellon would gladly send any number of sailors to help, but the other houses won't. They think the prince is too much of a soft scholar to lead people into battle. They demand to know whether a warrior will lead them to glory or an overdress milk-drinker leading them to their deaths."

Hugar couldn't fault the thinking of the highlords of the Iron Islands. If it was the mainland all it would take is a promise of marriage or a few new acres of lands. But they weren't mainlanders, they were Ironborn. And Ironborn had to be shown you were capable of leading the charge into battle. Can't risk a group of fine sailors and warriors so easily when it would take forever to retrain and replace someone-

"And that is why I was assigned to test the prince's skills."

If Hugar had been drinking or eating anything he would have spat it out. "What?"

Warne leans back into his chair.

"I am to test the prince's skills in battle. He wants our help, he has to prove it."

"You do know the mainlanders will have a horse race right?" Shana addresses Warne. "Challenging the prince to single combat, something an Ironborn has never done, to test him. Do you know how many mainlander lords will think something is afoot?"

Warnes shakes his head, "No. But I do know what it will get him." Warnes leans closer to the trio and over the table. "The entire Iron Fleet to be sent wherever the prince so desires. That is if he impresses me in our duel."

The entire Iron Fleet. Hugar let that simple statement sink in. One of the three most powerful fleets in all the Seven Kingdoms and Westeros. Considered an honor to be assigned to any of the one-hundred ships that raze the shores of the Sunset Sea for thousands of years. The pride of the Iron Islands that wasn't so easily offered to anyone. The last time the entire Iron Fleet had been mobilized was the last Blackfyre Rebellion where a great pirate armada was assembling in the narrow sea. It was safe to say that it only took a few battles to crush the armada and halt the Blackfyre army from invading Westeros.

"Hmm, this is serious then." Colton said as he scratches his beard. "But when will you duel the prince? He is getting everything ready for the feast tonight and then there is the tourney tomorrow."

"That I leave up to you." Warne gets up from his seat. "Tell him what I explained to you and ask him when. I am in no rush. He on the other hand, not so much." Warne walks away from the table without looking back at the trio. "When he gives his answer come find me. Just ask where the whores are at and I'll probably be there."

Hugar watches as Warne figure disappears into the mob of people walking about. That man sure had a sense of leaving a damn impression. Win one duel and win the support of the entire Iron Fleet. A damn good deal for any competent warrior to take. Yet a competent warrior wouldn't be the first thing Hugar would associate with Rheagar.

Now it wasn't that Rheagar was a bad warrior, Hugar would argue that the prince was a decent swordsman and a superb tactician when it came to battlefield plans. Given enough time and preparation, Rheagar would have a plan or method that could turn the battle in his favor. But a one on one duel? Finesse was alright, but against raw strength or the battle-tested, the prince stood little to no chance. Hugar knows he wouldn't exactly be here with a job if Rheagar was an unequal warrior.

"So how fucked are we?" Colton asked

"Very." Shana replies

"That's enough, both of you." Hugar speaks to his crewmates, "Whether Rheagar is up to the challenge is up to him, not us. Our job is just to tell him what Warne said. No more no less."

Colton slumps in his chair and picks up the piece of meat he left on the table. "So, which one of us will be telling the prince the news?" He tore into the cooked pork, turning the meat into mush with every crunching of his teeth.

"Shana and I will go tell Rheagar. You just keep an eye on everyone here."

"So try not to burn everything down Colton." Said Shana. "I rather not be chased out of Harrenhal with torches and swords drawn because of your salty ass."

Colton smiles up, showing his yellow crooked teeth, at Shana.

"I make no promises."

* * *

 **And so, the 2** **nd** **chapter of this story comes to an end. I originally planned for the second chapter to cover not only what took place above, but also the great feast, and the Tourney of Harrenhal (with my own brand of expanding or inserting some moments) all in this chapter. But once I saw how long just this part became, well I decided to split the chapter up. The next chapter is going to cover the great feast that night where Rheagar plays his harp and Lyanna sees him for the first time. Then the chapter after that will cover the infamous tourney and the subsequent incoming shit-storm. Ohh boy, that will be fun.**

 **But I hope you all enjoyed reading this and come back for the next one. See you all next time!**


End file.
